


Occupational Hazards

by Skyler10



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Domestics, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pete's World, Pete's World Torchwood, Romance, Sad with a Happy Ending, don't worry no one dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8673883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyler10/pseuds/Skyler10
Summary: Tentoo gets the voicemail of his nightmares when Rose goes on a mission without him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this gif set by @whatisthepointofyouhardy (http://skyler10fic.tumblr.com/post/153708226174) and much encouragement from many Tumblr friends.

This hell of a work day was finally over. Out of old habit, the Doctor ran his hand through his hair and examined it in the mirrored wall of the lift. It was growing long. No longer sticking up like Rose liked it. And (if he was vain enough to admit it, which he was) he liked it shorter himself. It was only honesty to acknowledge the fact that he had really great hair. Really great hair that had become more floppy than sticky-uppy. He’d have to look into finding a barber here in this universe. Or, of course, there was always the option of letting Jackie cut it. He made a face as the thought crossed his mind.

“Alright, mate?” George from finance asked. The Doctor startled; he hadn’t even noticed the lift doors open, much less George standing beside him as they rode down to the ground floor.

“I’m fine!” the Doctor responded a bit too quick. George raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. The Doctor caught his own reflection in the mirror-wall again. He had missed the bags under his eyes while examining his hair. But he saw them now. He barely held in a sigh. This human life was wearing on him.

At the moment, he was swimming in a pool of remorse, wounded pride, and worry. All of it involving his favorite human, of course.

They had fought last night. And it wasn’t the kind that was resolved before bedtime. No, this wasn’t a rational argument about real issues. This was the kind of fight exhausted couples have when living in close proximity and loving each other more than anything and grating on each other’s nerves in just the right way. She thought he was being distant; he was just preoccupied by his work. He thought she was nagging him out of boredom and being too controlling; she thought she was just being a concerned girlfriend and caring for him by pushing deeper when he told her it was nothing. They finally got tired of sorting out the miscommunication and called a truce as they fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed.

“Ok there, Doctor?” This time it was Randall the security guard. The Doctor had been on autopilot again, lost in thought, and hadn’t realized he was swiping his badge at the exit the wrong way. He flipped his badge around and nodded in response to Randall.

He replayed the argument in his head over and over on the Tube ride home. They had driven the Torchwood Hummer in to work today instead of Rose’s blue Audi, but Rose had taken the Hummer on a mission and wasn’t expected to be back for another hour at the earliest, so he had plenty of time to go through the motions of public transport and the walk home while preparing his apology to her and thinking up ways to make it up to her. That was the one upside to all their smaller spats, he mused to himself. Hopefully this would be the same. They always made up with enthusiasm.

A small part of him had hoped to find Rose there when he got home, but of course, she wasn’t. She would have called to see if he was still at the office first. It didn’t stop the flat from feeling extra lonely without her, however, with his whole speech planned out now and several good ideas for bringing her smile back depending on her mood and reaction.

If only the mission hadn’t come up right as his collider was about to explode. If only his experimental prototype hadn’t gone wrong at the wrong time. If only he and Rose weren’t fighting, he would have been tinkering in her office when the call came in instead of holed up and sulking in his lab. If only the green multi-eyed monsters had landed 10 minutes earlier or tomorrow or another week altogether. He’d be with her now out there, finding trouble and being clever to impress her and humming thoughtfully as he sonicked things. Now he was home using the sonic not for investigating but for reheating leftover soup. (Rose liked how it tasted on the stove better, but when he was alone he just used the sonic to avoid having the clean any extra dishes.)

He changed from his suit to his favorite brown jumper, hoping it wouldn’t be long until Rose was curled up against him, laying her head on his chest and nuzzling the soft cotton-blend fabric as she got comfortable. They would sheepishly apologize, agree to learn from their mistakes, and snog until they were too sleepy to move. If only she’d walk in that door…

He tried watching Netflix as a distraction, but didn’t want to either get in trouble for watching ahead in their TV shows or start something new if she was about to get home. Surely, any minute she would call. Thinking about it, he was surprised she hadn’t even sent a text to say she was going to be later than expected. She might still be angry, but she wouldn’t leave him completely in the dark, right? They were fighting but they weren’t to the not-talking stage yet, were they? Maybe she was more upset than he thought she was…

That’s when he realized he left his phone in his coat pocket. He retrieved it and exhaled in relief when he saw he had a voicemail from her (and several missed calls from other names, but hers was the only one that mattered). He winced as he saw the timestamp was from when he had been on the Tube. Even his superphone couldn’t get reception down there.

He paced as he played the message and willed his stomach to relax. It was still tied up in knots despite his anxiety about her freezing him out proven wrong. Even hearing her voice (“Hey! Just checking in!”) didn’t make the cloud of dread and uneasiness fade.

He listened as she told him not to worry, and he tried to comply. She said she’d be home a little late but they were just waiting for the monsters to come out of hiding. It was one of those long stake-out things. Boring, but eventually the leader would appear with conditions for a surrender. They both knew how these things went. He could even picture her huddled in some alleyway or watching some warehouse from the Hummer or perched by the window in some building. She sounded… tired. But there was a note of remorse and forgiveness in her voice. A hopeful lilt.

“I know we’ll talk when we get home, and the team isn’t that far away so I know they are listening to everything I’m saying, but I just wanted to say--”

She was interrupted by a crash, shattered glass if he had to guess by the sound, and gunshots. Oh, he would know that sound anywhere.

The unmistakable staccato made him want to throw up. He shouted her name, but remembered this was a voicemail message, not a live call, as he heard her curse and scream in pain, and gasp over and over. The phone had dropped to the floor not far from her head, it seemed, because he counted every breath of hers while holding his own. She groaned and shouted orders until suddenly she wasn’t anymore. The sound of her team shouting for her to stay with them and that she’d be alright and her name and _someone call a damn ambulance already!_ drowned out his thoughts.

Jake must have picked up the phone and seen who she was calling, because the next sound the Doctor processed as he grasped the phone to his ear, frozen in place, was instructions to meet them at the hospital ASAP. Jake hung up just as more shouting from a team of emergency medical personnel began.

His eyes and lungs burned, his one human heart endeavored to race out of his chest, and his stomach rolled… Then the blessed adrenaline kicked in.

Rose was hurt. She could be… no. No, he would not even think about that possibility. He would know. She was his everything. His entire universe. The person he loved most in all the world. He would know if she was no longer in it.

 Nearly a millennia of practice in channeling adrenaline sent his Time Lord brain into action. He grabbed his coat and phone and keys and hit the road in the Audi. It was built for speed and did not disappoint. He used the fancy voice-command system he had installed himself to call Jackie, who had just heard from Pete. She was on her way to the hospital as well, but had dropped Tony off with Pete’s sister first. Pete had been in contact with Jake since the ambulance ride to the hospital. Hadn’t the Doctor received his calls? (That explained the other missed calls then. Damn Underground. Damn 21st century technology.) Well, anyhow, Rose was stable but she didn’t have any more information than that. Not yet. Pete had an alien crisis to manage as well, so he hadn’t been able to stay on the phone with her long. All of Jackie’s chatter was lost to the Doctor now that he had the crucial information he needed.

Rose was alive. Just like he knew (hoped, prayed, pled, begged whatever deity would listen) that she would be.

The Doctor had never driven so fast in his life. He didn’t pay attention to where he parked. He didn’t even slow down while putting on his coat. It occurred to him much later that he must have been a sight to behold, coat flapping around him and disheveled hair and the Oncoming Storm in his tightly clenched jaw as he pushed down thoughts of retribution. (He was born in battle, after all, full of blood and revenge, but it only came out when he was defending the Earth, and most often, one specific occupant of that Earth.)

Brushing past those who would hold him back, he didn’t stop until he had an answer for what room she was in and was facing her hospital room door. He stared at it, preparing himself for whatever he would find on the other side. He took a deep breath and blew it out, then turned the handle.

The room was dark except for the moonlight and streetlamps out the window and a lamp on the bedside table. Pete slouched in a chair in the corner, eyes closed and head drooped, with his arms folded over his chest. As if he had fallen asleep negotiating a deal with her body to heal faster. The corner of the Doctor’s lip turned up just thinking about it. If anyone could make such a deal, it would be Pete Tyler.

Steeling himself for the main event, the Doctor turned to the form of his beloved. She had tubes sticking out of her and was hooked up to monitors, as he had expected. But there was no oxygen mask or ventilator or any such equipment that would indicate her life needed supporting in that way.

His eyes took in as much of her as he could see. She looked… well, she looked like she had been shot. She was covered in a blanket, so he couldn’t see where, but obviously not a major organ or she wouldn’t be lying here in a regular room. A private, pleasantly decorated, non-ICU, non-critical, normal-recovery room. He picked up her chart from its slot at the end of her bed. Not that he could read it in such dim light with his human vision. Even the specs, which now held a prescription, didn’t help.

Resigned to the long wait until she either woke or a nurse came to check on her (or, more likely, Jackie arriving and demanding answers from the physician, then filling him in), he pulled up a chair to her bedside. He wouldn’t leave her for the world right now, not even for answers. She was ok. That was enough for the moment. His adrenaline faded into raw emotion as tears welled and the fear in his gut dissolved into gratitude and love and the need to be as close to her as he could without hurting her. He took her non-IV hand in his own and pressed a kiss to the palm. It was not nearly enough to quench the ache that made him want to wrap her up in his arms and protect her from any and all harm. But for now, this would have to do.

“I never got to tell you today,” he whispered to her sleeping form, “but I’m sorry about last night. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry.” He took in the bruise on her cheek from where her face had hit the ground when she fell from the impact of the bullet. The deep purple in contrast to her pale skin in the dim light made him sigh out an “Oh, Rose” that was louder than intended.  

She opened her eyes at the sound and said one word, just one blessed word: “Hello.”

He smiled through his tears and brought her hand to his lips again. “Hello.”

“Doctor…” She struggled to even get out his name, so he shushed her. For once she did as she was told and relaxed back against the pillows instead of trying to sit up.

“It’s alright, love. Stay there. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here,” he reassured, trying to keep evidence of his crying out of his soothing. He brushed the fingers of his free hand through her hair.  “You just sleep and I’ll be here.”

Her eyes fought to stay open. “Jeopardy friendly,” she mumbled.

He realized she was explaining, even apologizing, for making him worry and being in this situation. He furrowed his brow and shook his head. “No, this is not your fault, not in the least. It could be any one of us here in this bed.”

“Occupational hazard,” she offered up weakly instead.

“Yes,” he laughed gently through his tears and adoration and soothing. “Occupational hazard. Just part of the job.” His heart caught in his throat again. With the jobs they had, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t had nightmares of this exact scenario. Even before this universe, it was always Rose in the infirmary of the TARDIS with a wound he couldn’t heal that haunted his sleep. He had to keep reminding himself that it wasn’t fatal here, in real life. That she was fading from consciousness because of the pain meds, not because of loss of blood or a fatal hit.

“Doctor?” she whispered so soft he almost thought he imagined it.

“Mmhm?”

“Last night. ’M sorry. And I forgive you.” She closed her eyes, but maintained her hold on his hand.

“I’m sorry and I forgive you too. Now sleep, love.” She nodded once against the pillow and seconds later, the muscles of her fingers relaxed around his. After a few minutes of silence, an unmistakable sound echoed through the halls of the hospital, muffled by the thick door but recognizable to his ears from entire planets away. Jackie Tyler was demanding to know whatever she could about her daughter’s condition. Being told Rose was fine and sleeping did nothing to lower the volume.

Despite his promise, the Doctor headed out to the nurses’ station. Hopefully, if nothing else, he could find out more medical information while at the same time protecting the good staff from the wrath of Jackie. There was no force like a mum when her daughter was in danger, as the Doctor had well learned by now, but he knew if there was anything he could do for Rose right now it wasn’t medical or conversational… it was taking care of and calming Jackie.

He may not be an expert at this human boyfriend stuff yet, as evidenced by last night’s fight, but he could do this: be a Doctor.


End file.
